


Odalisque

by Aurora Cee (SC182)



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Film Noir, M/M, Mild Gore, Mpreg, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Reunions, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:36:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1993506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SC182/pseuds/Aurora%20Cee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having the one thing he’d ever wanted might make him crazy. Not having it already did. Noir AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Odalisque

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters herein are the property of DC Comics and Warner Brothers. 
> 
> Repost from 2008. Inspired by the Smallville episode "Noir".

Lex sighed, long-suffering and unamused, “Queen.” Though his companion boobed his head and waved him off with a goodnatured hand and kept up his brisk brisk pace down the empty street.  
  
“Come on, Lex. I know where we’re going.” Oliver Queen walked a few steps ahead of Lex. Genuine excitement clear in every step.  
  
Lex followed, gait slow and steady. Excitement nor anxiousness could be mustered.  
  
Surprises.  
  
He’d learned the hard way to be wary of the unexpected. So, walking off in the cold wet night in a section of Metropolis that had been cleared out by a series of fires in the Depression years earlier didn’t stroke Lex as the most prudent decision. Their expensive wingtips tapped against the moist concrete joining the urban symphony of random animal sounds, building shifting and the errant baseline, like an irregular pulse, of the cars on the new high rise roadway blocks over.  
  
The house Oliver was leading them towards could have been any other house on the abandoned row. Dark and quiet, it could have been vacant of occupants for years.  
  
“Queen, as much as I’m enjoying this scintillating trek in the urban wilderness--”  
  
Oliver ascended the steps in fluid quickened strides. “Just you wait.”  
  
He rapped his knuckles against a door that upon closer inspection was polished and well maintained. The raps weren’t to any discernable tune, but unique.  
  
A row in the door slid back allowing light to pour out and the upper part of a face to be visible. Hard eyes stared back at the two men on the doorstep. “Where are ya goin'?” The person, a man, behind the door asked.  
  
“South.” Oliver answered.  
  
“Whatcha taking?”  
  
“The A Train.”  
  
“Where ya goin' when ya get there?”  
  
Oliver smiled back at Lex before turning back to the man at the door. “To Eden.” He swooned.  
  
The cryptic exchange had been correct by Lex’s deduction. The row slid closed and a few snaps and clicks could be heard as the door was unlocked. As it opened, the bright lights blinded him at least, making Lex shield his eyes momentarily.  
  
Lex followed Oliver gladly in order to leave behind the chilly air. Inside, Lex got his first glimpse at the man behind the door. He was the quintessential example of what a guard for an establishment should be, big and tall with muscles that looked like he could snap the average person in half with a minor flex of his pinky.  
  
“How’s the joint tonight, Titan?” Oliver inquired of the mountain of a man. Titan, how appropriate.  
  
The man locked the steel door up quickly, his fingers like over stuffed sausages completed the task deftly and quickly despite outer appearances. “After the rebound this week, Mr. Q, I can only imagine what they’re getting up to back there.” He referred to the door at the back of the room with a nudge of his chin.  
  
Oliver looked to Lex, brow raised and eyes full of excitement. He slipped Titan a bill or two. “That’s what I was expecting. Say, Titan--” Throwing his arm around Lex’s shoulders, he finally acknowledged the supposed reason for their trip. “Now, Titan, do you think my friend here will have a good time. He’s been away a long time. Now, he’s back and working hard and being an all around stick in the mud and a disgrace to bachelors everywhere by tying the knot shortly.”  
  
Titan’s grin was the stuff that made lesser men swallow thickly and dentists weep at its pearly gleam. “I think you’ll have a great time, sir.”  
  
Lex didn’t trust the giant man’s confidence, but accepted his prediction with quiet grace. “I’m sure my time here will be interesting.”  
  
Titan pressed a button behind him and urged them on to the next door. Standing in front of it, they could hear the loud brassy bursts of swing and the undecipherable rumblings of mingled voices. Oliver stepped aside, ushering him into the room first.  
  
A speakeasy, it wasn’t.  
  
The interior was much more expansive than the exterior would have one to believe. Tables were filled with patrons, men and women, watching the dancing on the well lit and Parisian-inspired stage. Beautiful women did their best rendition of the Can-Can while their male counterparts across the stage delighted with acrobatic might. All of them costumed in a way that left little to the imagination.  
  
In another corner, people huddled about a series of tables. Losing and winning back some of the money earned from this week’s stock rebound. The barmaids dressed in red and black corsets with white linen overlays covering enough of their chests not to cause a riot served up drinks, simple and plebian, as waiters—male and female, similar constricting garb served them to the tables covering the floor.  
  
Hands on his shoulders and arms nearly caused him to jump as they took his coat. Lex quirked a brow at the lovely doe eyed beauties that stripped them of their damp outerwear. Lex made a point to watch the women take their coats, and then watched Oliver watch them and suppressed the urge to smack him on the back of the head.  
  
Speaking of which, Lex returned to Oliver’s little barb from minutes before. “Queen, if I didn’t know you any better I’d say you disapprove.”  
  
“No, I just like to tease. Remember, I too have settled into a monogamous situation.”  
  
The fact of which still surprised Lex greatly. “Yes, I’m still amazed that Dinah hasn’t tossed you out like yesterday’s Planet.”  
  
Oliver ignored the barb as he shrugged out his eyes scanned the room. “I count myself lucky. I actually met Dinah here.”  
  
“Was she--” Lex pointed to the stage where women danced and swayed in various stages of dress and not. He knew Oliver was flexible; he knew some of that first hand.  
  
“No, she was actually working at the door with Titan.”Lex eyed him speculatively. “She was experiencing her own form of rebellion. Let’s just say I better not piss her off or she would have my balls literally.”  
  
Only having met Dinah a few times, Lex could recall the slight differences between her and the other women in their circle. Dinah carried herself well, yet had this subtle vibe of silent assuredness, as if she knew no matter what her beauty, brains, and now Lex knew, her strength would save her. “Hold on to her, she’ll keep things interesting.”  
  
“I intend to.” Oliver said no longer gazing about at all the available flesh. His face brightened as he made eye contact with an older woman walking towards them.  
  
“Ollie, it’s good to see you again.” She took his hand as they exchanged a series of kisses on each cheek. “I see you brought a friend.” He simply shook her gloved hand.  
  
They must have been very friendly, because few people had the pleasure of calling Oliver Queen ‘Ollie’. “My friend--”  
  
“Alexander.” Lex supplied.  
  
“—Is in need of a final bachelor’s celebration. Ms. Carver, I couldn’t think of a better place.”  
  
Ms. Carver, who possessed a soft matronly beauty, simply regarded Oliver with appeased eyes. “Quite true, Ollie. Alexander, I’m sure we have everything here to make your evening a memorable one. We have Scotch that is probably older than the country at this point, every sort of game you’d like to try your luck at, and very nice company. ”  
  
The Scotch comment piqued his interest. Prohibition and the rationing had made it very hard to get anything considered decent Scotch nowadays. If nothing else, he’d take her up on that offer.  
  
“Lex is marrying a very sweet and beautiful woman. I simply want to give him one last chance to be debauched before he takes his vows of rigid abstinence and hand-holding piety.”

Lex did scowl at Oliver.  
  
“There’s no debauchery here. Simply a little bit of one’s desire in a tiny corner of paradise. Alexander, I hope you enjoy your evening her in the Garden.”  
  
The Garden. Paradise, if one could imagine it to be so. Rumor had it called he Garden of Eden. That was a lot blasphemous and haughty. He’d have to see if they could hold up to their claim.  
  
“Ollie, I hear there’s a game of roulette waiting for you. I’ll give your friend the grand tour.” Ms. Carver moved to Lex’s side, hooking her arm through his.  
  
“Lex?” Oliver inquired.  
  
“Go, I’d like to learn more anyway.”  
  
Oliver nodded and issued the pair a cocky salute before making his way through the tables in search of his roulette game. “Ms. Carver, why don’t you show me the layout of the place?”  
  
A small patronizing smile curled her red lips as she led him about the room. “Alexander, I’ve been known to read people very well. A man of your breeding and experience has seen places like this the world over."  
  
Ms. Carved seemed like an intelligent woman. There was no doubt in his mind that she knew who he was and that he was in all words ‘back from the dead’.  
  
“You needn’t worry about your reputation. As long as you follow the rules, all parties will enjoy an easy association. Now, back to why the Garden is different from all those other places.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“In the Garden of Eden, man’s sin was to go after the one thing he wanted.” She led him near the stage, showing him the private booths.  
  
“So, are you offering unlimited knowledge?” His father would have loved that.  
  
“Something like that, except the only one who can walk away with the knowledge is you.”  
  
They had walked away from the main entertainment area. Now, the sound of music and bells died down to a faint hum as they reached a more comfortable and formal area. Couples were dispersed about the room, sitting comfortably and closely on the various couches lost in romantic conversation or the stirrings of lust. Unlike the other establishments Lex had frequented in Europe, some of the couples were mixed. Mixed in color and gender.  
  
“You are a handsome man, Alexander and have seen a great many things in your short life. I’m sure of all the things you’ve seen, the one thing you ever wanted remains well guarded and secure in your mind and heart. On a pedestal, so high that if you ever found it again, it might drive you mad.”  
  
The stairs at the far corner of the room were traveled by men with women, men with men, women with men, and women with women. “Then, why give it to me if the stakes are that high?”  
  
“I worry about what would become of if you didn’t have it.” Her ungloved hand now reached for his. She cradled his between her frail ones and issued him a soft grin. “Tina will show you to the next part of your evening.”  
  
Removing her hands from his left him cold and feeling momentarily rocked, as if her gaze had held some sort of true weight of measure.  
  
The ‘Tina’ in question was a semi-tall curvy brunette. Nearly his type save for the eye color and lips. He followed her up the flight of stairs, where they got off on the second floor. She didn’t speak, simply gave him half glances that were curious and innocent.  
  
They passed by couples who moved off into the various rooms. From what he could see, they offered luxury while extending its users comfort and privacy on the fly. They reached the end of the hall. As skeptical as he’d been about Ms. Carver’s little speech, there was part of Lex that hoped for a little bit of magic. Just something to keep his heart sustained as she had called it. This moderately attractive woman was the secret flame he protected within his heart.  
  
She pressed a section of the wall, revealing a small panel and pressed a button. Instantly, the wallpaper shifted and slid back revealing an open elevator. “This way, sir.”  
  
Before the door to the elevator could close, Lex was reminded of his fear of closed spaces that had only been exacerbated by his plane crash. If Tina knew just how disquieted he felt by the short ride, she wouldn’t look at him with admiration anymore.  
  
He concentrated on the one thought that always brought him comfort and ease. His Angel.  
  
Before his life had been forced back onto the straight and narrow, he’d done everything possible to rebel. He’d done a stint studying at the Ivies. They still marveled at his genius to his day. But, he’d found it boring and sterile. The perfect setting for him to grow up like his father. The thought of which forced him to lash out and run away.  
  
He’d worked during the Depression during his travels. Stood in breadlines and dug ditches, just to feel alive and a part of something. When his father’s investigators had caught up with him in a miscegenated jazz club in Metropolis, he was forced into exile. If ever he thanked his father for anything it was for sending him to Smallville.  
  
A freak accident left him with the memory of flying and opening his eyes to see his Angel kneeling above him. The connection between them had been instantaneous. Even if they’d been forced apart for a thousand different reasons. His angel had a name though he dared not speak it. The hurt was less real that way.  
  
Lex still remembered the words that made him believe.  
  
 _“Do you believe a man can fly?”  
  
“Lindbergh did, so why not.”_  
  
He’d saved his Angel from a certain death at the hands of his careless and bigoted classmates. He would have razed the town to the ground if his Angel had asked. His Angel with his truly divine charity asked that no harm come to the ones that had hurt him. His words weren’t from fear. Those green eyes of his shone only great sympathy.  
  
They’d been so young, too young, and foolish. The conspiracies of men always lead to great tragedy. Their young love hearts beat in a single rhythm and to be separated had nearly killed Lex. An ill-timed kiss had forced his Angel’s father’s hand. Forcing them initially apart except in their secrets rendezvous in the dead of night. Then, Lionel’s last attempt at instilling discipline in Lex had come through and he was to finish out the remainder of his studies in a military academy.  
  
Lex had always said he’d come back. He’d given his Angel his St. George’s box with his mother’s watch inside as a promise. His Angel said he would wait.  
  
This life didn’t hold much promise for men such as them, but the world had yet to face Lex Luthor when determined and committed to something with a single-minded ferocity. In the Academy, he’d climbed the ranks at an astonishing rate. Mostly, due to his ability to take any challenge and master it. At graduation, he accepted a commission in Europe much to Lionel’s chagrin.  
  
Even his father didn’t have the power to circumvent the War Department, he shipped out immediately. Still holding the memory of his Angel in his heart. The War was already raging by the time he reached Europe, and he knew it was only a matter of time before his own countries entry. He simply hoped his Angel would be spared from the selection. Tucked away nice and safe in his Rockwellian part of the world, his Angel wouldn’t be able to cope with seeing the cruelty of men up close.  
  
He’d been a pilot. Worked with some of the best in the world. One of the few people he could actually count as a friend was a Negro man from his Angel’s hometown who flew with the group out of Tuskegee.  
  
Fortune must favor the bold. Never would he have expected to meet someone from his Angel’s hometown, better yet to meet someone who knew his Angel personally. Pete told him countless stories. All of which sustained him for another hour or day without his Angel by his side.  
  
The promise he tried so hard to keep every day.  
  
Like many of the soldiers, his body had strayed. Women, whose faces, were sisters to his Angel’s called to him, captured him with their alluring looks like sirens’ calls.  
  
Desiree.  
  
Helen.  
  
He’d given five years to the cause of fighting tyranny and oppression. Every day, he wrote letters to his Angel, all of them unsent save for one of his lasts. The response came days before his last mission. A short sweet set of lines that told of how his Angel had simply stared at his letter in disbelief, then scrambled to send him a letter in return. Through the years, his Angel’s hope that he would return never wavered.  
  
As he had gotten into his plane, he’d indulged himself in thinking of the future. Once he was home. Once he was with his Angel. City or country, it didn’t matter as long as they were together.  
  
A simple carpet-bombing sweep. Routine. Easy. Somewhere between saying mission accomplished and thinking about the gleam of his Angel’s smile, his tail had been clipped.  
  
He was spinning out of control and plunging closer and closer towards the ground. The one word on his lips before he trusted his life to the roar of the wind, “Clark.”

* * *

  
  
The elevator chimed as they finally came to a stop.  
  
This floor was quiet and contained fewer rooms. Only five. Tina walked them out of the elevator. Lex took a deep breath. He’d been in there long enough to dredge up the past and he hated himself for it.  
  
Bypassing the first set of doors, Lex had to ask, “Anymore floors to this place or are we nearing our final destination?”  
  
Tina maintained a steady swish to her hips as they reached the final door that had been parallel to the elevator. “Ms. Carver wants you to see the Jewel.”  
  
Lex’s pulse sped up for a moment. The Jewel of Metropolis. Even Lex had heard of fabled jewel. The rumors said the Jewel could make anyone feel like they were with a thousand lovers. The Jewel’s lips were like satin pillows. Angelic, despite the thousand and one sins your body committed while with them.  
  
She opened the door and urged him forward with a wave of her arm. “Let me take your coat.” Again, he was stripped, this time of his hat, coat, and scarf, leaving him in his naked shirt and tie. “Help yourself to a drink,” she pointed to the bar in the corner farthest from the door.  
  
The young hostess gave him a parting glance and shut the door behind her. Lex inspected his surroundings, finding them to be less of a room and more like an apartment. The living room was larger than the ones he’d seen in passing. The bar contained everything he’d forgone for the last seven plus years.  
  
The Scotch won him over. As he uncapped the bottle, it dawned on him that the room smelled remarkably like sunshine. He poured and listened for any sign of the Jewel. He brought the Scotch to his lips and found Ms. Carver hadn’t lied. Lex exampled the main room before getting curious. He pushed the door open revealing a bedroom, comfortable, made up a bit garishly, but adding to the sense of sensuality that a meeting like this should entail.  
  
A fire was burning in the fireplace. Providing enough light for him to see the white robe spread across the bed and the folded white card laying on top of it. ‘For the guest,’ the card read on the outside.  
  
Inside, it asked him to slip into the robe so their session could begin. Indulging himself, Lex followed the directions and reclined on the bed. Nursing his Scotch, he waited.  
  
When his ears picked up on the sounds of the front door opening, Lex began to think he was a fool for listening to the Ms. Carver’s spooky jabbering. The bedroom door opened revealing the silhouette o f a man, tall and broad in the shoulders, with the shadows falling across his face. He wore a long flowing robe with golden symbols sewn in the fabric. It opened down the center, giving Lex a view of his chiseled abdomen and chest. The shorts that hung at his hips were made of the same fabric as the robe and only covered the essentials.  
  
“I always start with a massage. Why don’t you lie across the bed?” The Jewel suggested.  
  
Lex stood and repositioned himself lengthwise across the mattress. His head faced the door and still had no better picture of the Jewel’s face. He watched the Jewel’s robe slide against his long naked legs. A drawer open and shut. The bed dipped with the added weight of his companion for the evening. The large hands that touched his naked back were distinctly male, but far softer and smoother.  
  
He relaxed into the touch as cool pleasant smelling lotion was applied to his skin. They remained in silence for the entirety of the massage. Lex wasn’t foreign to dalliances with men. His Angel, though…  
  
Allowing the thought to blossom would have been like a sacrilege. A desecration of his Angel’s memory.  
  
The hands on his back stilled. “Turn over now.” The Jewel moved out of his straddle, allowing Lex the room to move to his back that felt surprisingly good.  
  
The Jewel repositioned himself across Lex’s lap. A small sound like air escaping someone’s lungs came from above him. Lex opened his eyes.  
  
The memory of flying and falling washed over him. The first time, his Angel had saved him. The second time, he almost went to his death with his Angel’s name on his lips. Now, his chest was tight. His lungs couldn’t expand enough.  
  
“Angel.” He managed between gasps of air.  
  
Clark—his Angel gazed down at him. His bright green eyes full of light and life, not the cold fixed stare of death.  
  
‘Not dead.’ Lex’s mind communicated.  
  
Lex reached up slowly allowing his hand to rest on Clark’s cheek. Hot flesh and blood.  
  
“My God.” He whispered.  
  
Suddenly, he was surging up and knocking Clark onto the pillows at his back. Lex remained between his legs hovering above him. Their eyes locked in a constant stare. His asking so many questions, while Clark’s seemed to assure him that he was there.  
  
He simply gazed at Clark. The years had been good to him. Still so beautiful. His raven curls were longer now, more unruly. Lex dove his hand into the mass, seizing a sizeable handful, not too tightly, and drew himself even closer to Clark’s face. Their breaths mingled.  
  
Lips, a lovely shade of living red.  
  
Cheeks, sun kissed and pinking.  
  
Eyes, green and piercing.  
  
Lex plunged them into a kiss. Their lips locking into a familiar embrace. They meshed and fit together. Sucking and nibbling, Lex couldn’t get enough of Clark’s lips. He’d dreamed about his mouth nightly. Clark even tasted the same—like sugar and apples. So natural. So right.  
  
He broke away. His vision needed to clear. He felt drunk and mesmerized. Releasing Clark’s hair, he moved to touch his face again, then his neck and sides. Just hearing the small sounds of air rushing in and out of Clark’s mouth in exhilaration set Lex aflame.  
  
He kissed his cheeks, forehead, and chin.  
  
Before returning to the strawberry that was Clark’s mouth. “Clark.”  
  
Clark opened his eyes. “Lex.”  
  
How had she known? Because this was real. Clark was here alive, under him, breathing and straining against him.  
  
“Please, Lex. Please.” Clark begged. Before their separation, Clark would ask, always saying ‘please’, trying to get Lex to take the final step. Join them for once. Lex resisted every time. In the dark in his bunk and the forests trying to find his way back, he spent the night under the stars thinking about how he should have said yes. Had a memory that could never be erased.  
  
Clark was here asking him please. This time he could surrender.  
  
He slipped off the rest of Clark’s robe and eyed the garment that was supposedly giving his Angel modesty. Too impatient to slide them off, he ripped them. The act of which caused Clark’s eyes to grow wide. But seeing Clark’s body, all of it, made him realize why he’d struggled to survive. Why he came back in the beginning.  
  
This was his reward.  
  
His destiny.  
  
Clark slipped Lex’s robe off and tossed it aside to join his own. They simply held each other for the next few minutes. Fingers tracing skin and looking at scars. Lex carried scars now. Clark still didn’t. He was still young, beautiful, and angelic. And his.  
Always his.  
  
Lex settled them back on the mattress. His hips were cradled by Clark’s thighs ever so perfectly. Skin to skin. He relished in the faint tickling of the light hair on Clark’s legs rubbing against his bare ones.  
  
Like an explorer, he mapped out every piece of Clark’s skin. Touched all that there was to touch. Kissed his face and neck. Feasted like Phineus at the end of the harpies’ reign of terror. He lathed and suckled the base of Clark’s neck. Worrying the skin there until his jaw ached. Then, moving down to nibble the harden nubs on Clark’s chest.  
  
Every sound admitted fueled him forward, giving him more incentive to touch and taste. Navel, taut and hairless, it too received the attention of Lex’s tongue. He moved off Clark to get a better view of the curly black thatch of hair that he’d only touched before, though not seen. Clark was again perfect under his gaze. Length hard and curling upward, top red and straining from need. It called to Lex. The heft of it was perfect in his hand. He used moisture from the top to lubricate his stroke.  
  
He watched Clark’s eyes close and his hands grip the sheets. Lex resettled himself above Clark, taking them both in his hand rubbing them side by side. The fire in the base of his belly burned hot. Clark’s skin was hot against his own. They rocked together. Surging forward and back. Over and over. Clark’s arms moved up to his shoulders. Their weight was comforting.  
  
Then, Clark opened his eyes.  
  
Lex’s fist now solely pumped Clark’s cock. Faster and faster until Clark’s mouth opened in a silent cry. He kissed the sides of Clark’s open mouth and pumped as each splash hit his belly. Lex was still hard. He couldn’t come yet. Not with finally having Clark in every way.  
  
He reached for the lotion on the bedside table. He slicked himself up quickly. Clark began to move onto his stomach, but Lex stopped him with a hand on his belly. Clark lay back down. Part of his mind, the part that was always vigilante made note of how willing Clark seemed to turn over.  
  
Lex added more lotion to his fingers and hesitated before entering Clark, who just shook his head silently driving Lex forward. He entered Clark for the first time with one finger. Then, he added a second and a third, capturing every writhe and quiver as Clark moved beneath him. He was so hard now, he had to move slow as he repositioned himself. This way might have been more difficult, but he needed to see Clark’s eyes.  
  
He lined up the head of his cock with Clark’s entrance. Inside was so tight. It took him forever to feed his entire length inside. But he fit. Inside of Clark was where he was always supposed to be. Initially, Lex tried to make slow strokes, but found his resolve dissipating with each clench around him. Their skin slapped together filling the room with the tune of their sweat moistened skin colliding. He tried to kiss Clark occasionally. But his cock was in more control than Lex was at the moment. Clark’s hisses and the ripping of the sheets beneath his hands told Lex of each time he’d managed to hit the sweet spot.  
  
His heart sounded like a thousand horses pounding in his head. His back clenched and all the pressure building inside, years of waiting for true release exploded as he came inside of Clark for the first time. Jet after jet, he poured himself into Clark. Around him the muscle remained tight, occasionally spasming him as he continued to come.  
  
Lex rested his forehead against Clark’s sweaty chest. Rapidly rising and falling, he kissed between the valley of Clark’s pecs. Not quite soft, he was still inside of Clark.  
  
Home.  
  
He was home.

* * *

  
  
They cleaned themselves up and fell into an exhausted sleep. Sometime later, presumably in the morning, Lex woke up to a still dark sky. The fire was still going and he was given another opportunity to simply watch Clark asleep.  
  
His Angel was here. Alive.  
  
His heart swelled the fact.  
  
After being lost for months and traveling only at night, Lex managed to get back to Ally territory. The debriefing alone had taken another month anyway from him getting back to the States. Everywhere he went, he was a hero. The Luthor heir made it back from behind enemy lines. No one could believe it.  
  
Lionel had even been genuinely affectionate when they were reunited at a big Metropolis homecoming for its—now, favorite son. He was so close then. As soon as he could, he made it back to Smallville in uniform and all.  
  
The Kent farm had looked well enough. He craned his head in every direction to try to see Clark. Martha Kent spotted him first. She was taken aback by his appearance. She embraced him in a warm hug and led him into the house for milk and pie. Jonathan Kent even regarded him with something more than disdain. Begrudging respect was what he saw in the man’s eyes.  
  
It was after he finished two pieces of pie and finished telling the Kents about his tour in the service and how he managed to outwit the enemy that he asked about Clark. The crumpling of Martha’s expression made his heart sink.  
  
Jonathan got up from the table and left the house. “He always said you were coming back. He never doubted it. I tried to tell him not to get his hopes up. ” Martha’s speech faltered.  
  
“Then you sent that letter. I’ve never seen him that happy before. It was like …he could jump over the moon. He sent you one and couldn’t wait for you to send him one back.”  
  
Lex rubbed his face. “I went missing after that.”  
  
Martha Kent nodded solemnly. “The news hit him so hard. I know you were close.” She said in a tone that acknowledged what he and her son had shared and did not approve. “It was like he was dying inside. Just so hurt. We went to a Church Social one afternoon, while we there we heard this loud bang. The sheriff said the old tractor must have been leaking gas for months. It soaked into the soil and when Clark was working on it, the backfire from the engine turning over…caused the explosion.” Tears flowed freely from her eyes. “There was nothing left, but a giant--”Martha wiped her tears. “Hole in the ground. We made a grave site for him out at the back of the old cemetery. ”  
  
He still remembered Martha Kent’s hand on his as he sat across from her. He wanted to yell that he knew Clark was special. He should have survived. Then, he was walking out of the house and stepping into the sun on the porch. He couldn’t think, just ran off the Kent property. Behind him, he could hear someone calling him. It was Jonathan Kent. His dress shoes hit the pavement of the main road and carried him all the way to the Smallville cemetery.  
  
At the back, he found a small modest headstone with Clark’s name. Lex was broken then. Inside, he was numb. Silent tears escaped him as he cried at the loss of his Angel while he raged inside. As the sunset, he managed to compose himself. He dusted off his uniform. Without another look at Clark’s grave, he walked away burying their fabled legends deep inside.  
  
He walked back to the Kents apologizing for his behavior. Even Jonathan had insisted that he stay for the night. Lex spent the night in Clark’s room wrestling with a ghost that never should have been. Still accustomed to time across the Atlantic, he rose before the Kents and explored the loft. It was just as he remembered. On Clark’s desk, Lex found a book of poetry he’d given to Clark in the early dates of their relationship. Inside, he found his letter, still crisp and new. Clark had taken care of it. There was another half written for him.  
  
A reply to his reply.  
  
Strange enough that night, he couldn’t find the St. George’s box or the ring anywhere. He took the book, the letters, and the few pictures of the two of them and left. He hadn’t returned to Smallville since.  
  
Now, Clark was alive. Lying in bed beside him in the throes of sleep. How had he gone from being dead there and very much alive here? Clark was the Jewel. The Jewel of Metropolis. With a sickening realization, he burned inside for not being Clark’s first. Strangers had taken of the flesh that was his.  
  
He wondered what he’d been working the last two years for. Before Lionel’s death, he’d created LexCorp. Even as the heir to LuthorCorp, he owned it via LexCorp’s acquisition. His time among the military elite gave him enough contacts in the old regime and all the new up and coming war directors. LexCorp would be a part of military defense for years to come.  
  
Why had he done all of this?  
  
What had Ms. Carver said? Having the one thing he’d ever wanted might make him crazy? Not having it already did.  
  
He wanted Clark. Had always wanted him.  
  
Nothing stood in his way now.  
  
As if sensing Lex’s loud thinking, he caught sight of Clark’s eyes over his shoulder. Sheets pooled slightly below his waist. Clark was like a work of art. A masterpiece for his own enjoyment.  
  
His odalisque.

* * *

  
  
The next morning Lex sat at the edge of the bed as he closed his cuffs. Clark sat beside him now wearing the white robe. His hair was sleep tossed and liner used on his eyes was smudged in the corners. He still looked amazing to Lex, who loathed leaving him.  
  
“When I come back will you be here?” Lex asked.  
  
Clark nodded. “Yeah.”  
  
“There’s a lot we need to talk about.”  
  
“I know.” Clark snorted at the understatement.  
  
“Can you get the day off?” What Lex wanted to say to Clark was quit now. He’d never have to work again, especially not in a place like this. Whether Clark knew it or not, no one else would ever touch him again.  
  
Lex pulled Clark into another kiss. When they broke apart, their foreheads rested together. Lex inhaled the highly addictive scent of sex on Clark’s skin. His fingers curled around the rebellious curls at the base of Clark’s neck in an attempt to spend more time together. “I’ll be back…shortly.” He decided to add at the tail end.  
  
Clark simply held his gaze and nodded against him. “I’ll be here.”  
  
Lex shrugged on his suit jacket and headed out the door. Remembering the way he came, Lex went down the elevator without running into any of the other patrons. On the first floor, faces that he hadn’t recognized the night before cleaned and arranged the furniture in their right order. A few of the other patrons stumbled out.  
  
In the main entertainment room, Lex saw Ms. Carver sitting at the bar drinking coffee. With the same eerie sense that she’d paired Lex up with Clark, she turned to face him and waved him over. “Ollie wanted you to know he couldn’t stay any later.”  
Lex was pretty sure Queen had tried to scramble home so that Dinah wouldn’t put his balls in a literal vice. “I understand.” Lex replied.  
  
Ms. Carver gestured to one of her girls cleaning the bar. The girl returned with Lex’s overcoat . “I trust you had a good evening. I expect we’ll be seeing you more frequently.”  
  
Lex gave her a sardonic smirk. “Actually, you’ll see me again today. I’ll be back to speak with Clark.” She didn’t look surprised. “Know that Clark won’t be staying here any longer.”  
  
“He’s always been free to come and go as he likes. This isn’t a prison.”  
  
“Good, I’d hate for things to get ugly. In any case, he will be leaving.”  
  
“Be good to him, “ She warned. “ These last few years have been hard on all of us. Some more than others.”  
  
“Taking care of him won’t be a problem.”  
  
Lex walked outside the Garden to find a sunny yellow cab waiting for him at the end of the block. He’d never forget the location of this place as long as he lived. Behind those seemingly dilapidated walls his Angel resided.  
  
The ride back to the penthouse was silent. As he entered back into Metropolis proper, Lex’s mind was busy making arrangements. Lana had never been all that important in the scheme of things. She was a means to an end. The source of an heir. The suitable life mate. Pretty and perfectly acceptable.  
  
Safe.  
  
Without Lionel, Lex didn’t have to worry about his father springing traps and tricks on him to keep him on the straight and narrow. He’d watched the old man being buried and was almost tempted to have a glass coffin to make sure he stayed buried.  
  
No Lionel.  
  
Arriving at the penthouse, Lex was greeted by the doorman, who tipped his hat to him readily. Most people thought it was crazy that Lex had decided to build his new penthouse on the new top floor of the LexCorp towers. Lana certainly loved the view.  
  
Most bosses wouldn’t dare face their employees head on after a night of reacquainting themselves with an old lover. Hope and Mercy were busy keeping tabs on things for him. Another thing in his station would usually dismiss as fool hardy: having women as his second in commands. What his competitors didn’t know, Hope and Mercy were brilliant and could break any man in half in close to a blink.  
  
Former WACs, they knew how to handle themselves and then some. Their offices flanked his just as they did in any meeting. He knocked on Mercy’s open door, who waved him in as she wrapped up her conversation on the phone. “Mr. Ross down in aeronautics wants to schedule a visit so that you can finalize the bomber line.”  
  
Another unconventional decision. Pete Ross was one of the best pilots he knew and knew more about aeronautics and engineering than most of the governments guys could ever hope to achieve. LexCorp was in the lead for the new round of government contracts. Their new planes had incorporated more jet technology any other plane available.  
  
“Let Mr. Ross know I’ll have a look tomorrow. Say at nine sharp.” Lex walked into the office and sat on Mercy’s comfortable couch and thought over the last twelve hours. At the moment, he was at a loss.  
  
Suddenly five years of anguish and despair had evaporated, leaving him again freefalling through the sky with a letter from his sweetheart in his jacket pocket.  
  
Mercy turned her gaze on him. Her hard beautiful gaze. “Something wrong, Boss?” She was responsible for maintaining business integrity. Hope handled physical security. On occasion, their duties mingled. Worrying about Lex was one of those intermingled activities.  
  
“Let’s just say I found what I’ve been looking for.”  
  
Mercy hated it when he was purposefully cryptic. Clark was the one thing that the all-knowing duo had yet to learn about. “I need you to get to legal and acquire some property for me. Something with a more than decent view on the other side of the bay and empty. Furnishing it won’t be a problem as long as it meets the other requirements.”  
  
Mercy took notes. “Is this coming out of corporate accounts or personal?”  
  
“Personal.” Lex stated. To Mercy’s skeptical expression, he elaborated by saying, “I need more space--”  
  
“Or does Ms. Lang require more space?”  
  
“I have many things to consider before I take things farther with Ms. Lang. Old matters have made themselves known; now everything has changed.”  
  
“I’ll get right on it, Boss.”  
  
“Good, I need you to have Hope see me as soon as she returns. This place will require new security protocols. If you can manage it, I need it done by the end of the day.”  
  
Neither Mercy or Hope had liked Lana upon first meeting her. Lex understood they were women of a new breed, but Lana was of classic style. They rolled their eyes and went back to work. Hope made a point of saying she hoped Lana didn’t try to kill him. He’d already had a few close calls.  
  
Lana, in turn, believed they were jealous of her new position in his life. Not quite jealous, just untrusting. Hope and Mercy had been the two best, if the two of the best, female war undercover operatives the government had. Mission after mission, they completed with minimal incident. What put them on the governments blacklist was refusing to be whores for the cause. They wouldn’t bend over for Uncle Sam, because they didn’t have any interest in that sort of thing. They were discharged quietly without too much incident, because smart girls like them did their homework and had backup plans in place.  
  
He sought them out immediately.  
  
Lex simply asked that they keep any quarrels that might arise in their relationship out of the office.  
  
It was the perfect partnership. After all, they were consummate professionals.  
  
After Lex left her office, Mercy shook her head smiling. Sometimes, he must have forgot that she was trained to be a spy. Lex was very good at hiding his emotions, but she could read between the lines. “They must be pretty special.” She said to no one in particular.

* * *

When Lex reached the penthouse, he found it as he liked it. Empty. Lana was on a trip with her Aunt Nell searching for the right wedding dress. Part of him wanted to call off the wedding right this instant. That was the dreamer’s desires. The realist knew he needed Lana or talk would begin to spread that he was crazy like Howard Hughes.  
  
In this town, reputation was everything.  
  
They hadn’t built up to cohabitation. They were close enough for Lex’s liking. She came and went from the penthouse usually when invited. The same applied to his visits to Chez Lang. Her aunt was all business, a consummate chaperon during his visits. Her presence suited him just fine. Better for him actually, because Lana had her moments when she would have swayed most men to give in to her batted eyelashes and seductive smiles.  
  
Alone in his space, Lex was king. Metropolis lay before him. A kingdom that he had conquered in a few scant years. She was his. Possibly the only thing that could marginally compensate for what he believed he’d loss.  
  
Lex needed to shower and dress as soon as possible. He didn’t want to leave Clark there any longer. While he was thinking about redecorating, he needed to call his tailor and have the man clear his schedule a fitting for Clark.  
  
After he showered and he began to search for something appropriate, Lex saw his uniform hanging in the closet. He usually refrained from looking too closely at it, because the flash of memories was too immersible. It always felt like he was losing part of himself each time the image of Clark’s grave hit him.  
  
Now, he could see it in his mind, him getting out of his car and standing in front of the Kent’s sunny farmhouse. He looks about madly, head swiveling from one corner to the next. He’ll see a spot of red approaching from the south pasture and just wait as his heartbeat sped up. Lex would know it was Clark, just as Clark would look up and stop at the back edge of the fence. They’d simply stare at each other until the spell was broken and they moved towards each other with open arms.  
  
They’d be together after their reunion. Together forever. Forging their destiny no matter what. No worries now. They were together again.  
  
He’d had the foresight to buy American before Johnny went marching across the Atlantic and Pacific. Now, anything German was seen as a mark of sympathizing with their maniacal little leader. So, Lex gladly bought American. Cadillac. Its white walled tires gleamed in the late morning sun. He couldn’t wait for Clark to see it or sit side by side with him as they drove away from the Garden.  
  
Lex came to a stop in front of the Garden. On the radio, the President gave his fireside chat. The old man was like everyone’s friend, their neighbor, their pal. Old Frankie wouldn’t be so pleased with some things in Lex’s life. Though the man seemed to like Lex well enough already. Eleanor, though, was a pistol. Thinking of his favorite First Lady, Lex couldn’t help but know she would love Clark if they met.  
  
After shutting off the car, Lex got out and rounded the Cassie to stand in front of the Garden. It was a sight more pitiful in the bright late morning sun. The only thing standing out about it from its rundown neighbors was the door. It had a fine black finish and no knocker.  
  
Lex began to ascend the stairs when the front door opened. Clark came out; hair combed back and slickened with pomade giving it a blue-black shine. Wearing a simple red sweater over a white shirt and blue slacks, Clark stole his breath. He looked very much the boy he’d once known, less angelic, and more adult. There were subtle differences in the way he wore his clothing,  
  
More secure.  
  
Lex simply stood on the first step looking at Clark, who he noticed had nothing in his hands. He hoped Clark had understood. “Clark, did you say your goodbyes?”  
  
Clark broke his gaze with Lex. His jaw clenched. “I didn’t…I wasn’t sure…” He took a deep breath, his cheeks going slightly red. “It’s hard to believe that you’re here.”  
  
“I told you I’d be back.”  
  
Clark began to descend the stairs. Stopping short of Lex by a few steps. “Yeah, I know…now. I figured last night wasn’t a dream when I saw you getting into the cab.”  
  
Lex patted his cheek. “It’s not a dream.”  
  
Clark rested his hand atop of his.“Thank goodness.”  
  
“I told Ms. Carver you wouldn’t be coming back. Whatever you want to take, we can load it up now or I can just get you something else.”  
  
Clark’s hand slipped down to Lex’s shoulder. “I don’t need you to take care of me. I have some stuff upstairs, not much but I can manage.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
Lex waited for Clark on the landing. Not wanting to bring himself any closer to this place…of ill repute. He could laugh. His Clark in a place of ill repute. He’d need the story for that sooner than later. In a way, Lex figured he should be thankful for Ms. Carver. From initial appearances, the Garden of Eden had been a safe place for Clark. The eeriness of Ms. Carver’s touch still stood out to Lex.  
  
Had she actually known of his desires?  
  
It wasn’t unfathomable that she was special. Military experts were amazed that Lex was found alive and in one piece. His uncanny specialness had allowed him to survive a plane crash in the middle of the French wilderness. Clark was special too. His specialness had saved them on more than one occasion. Mostly from others in Smallville that used their abilities for their own wicked purposes. There were the good as well.  
  
He’d have Hope investigate Ms. Carver later and provide her with some sort of compensation for losing Clark.  
  
Clark appeared on the stairs, grin bright and beautiful, with boxes and suitcases in hand. The sun couldn’t out shine Clark’s smile.

* * *

  
  
“We could catch a picture show. I hear there’s a new Spencer Tracey and Katherine Hepburn feature. Or maybe an Errol Flynn movie? ” Lex proposed.  
  
“Sounds good.” Clark’s gaze travelled around the penthouse. His eyes were wide in awe as he silently gazed out on the concrete and steel landscape that was Metropolis. “I’ve never seen it like this. The city, I mean.”  
  
Lex moved to Clark’s side. “Not many have.”  
  
It felt so right just the two of them up there gazing down at the city. When he had been younger, he dreamed of the future and what all he’d give to Clark. For Lex, Clark had given him so much more than mere friendship in the early days. He’d made Lex finally feel connected rather than a transient human being, mattering only when his father felt it was necessary or under the scrutiny of anyone who had pity for the pale sickly bald child. Clark had simply treated Lex like anyone else.  
  
Lex opened the sliding glass doors, allowing them to step onto the balcony. “One day, I believe more skyscrapers will dot the landscape.”  
  
“You’re probably right. You usually are about things like this.” Clark tilted his head up to the sky. “The sun feels incredible up here.”  
  
Watching Clark’s skin absorb the sun’s rays made Lex recall just how perfect Clark and the sun went together. Lex pointed across the bay. “We’ll be over there soon with a place of our own.”  
  
Clark turned away from the view to face Lex. “We’re moving very fast, Lex.”  
  
“We have a lot of time we must make up for.” Lex smiled at Clark, hoping to pass on some of his enthusiasm. “I have something in the kitchen that might put you into the proper spirits.” Lex slid his fingers down Clark’s sleeve, feeling the softness of cotton beneath his fingers. He laced his fingers through Clark and just waited for Clark to brighten. He didn’t wait to see the softening of Clark’s eyes before he led them back them into the penthouse.  
  
In his straight off the assembly line Frigidaire sat a freshly made pie straight from the Kelvin’s bakery down on 27th and Miracle. He’d sampled nearly every pie in Metropolis in hopes of finding an acceptable substitute for Martha Kent’s pies. The goods in Kelvin’s bakery were good enough that Lex could fathom himself breaking his strict diet for more than a single piece of pie at a time.  
  
His maid had left plates easily accessible, knowing just how inept Lex could be in the kitchen. Apple pie stay between them and just watching Clark’s lips curl into a smile was enough to sustain Lex indefinitely.  
  
“I think this would meet the standards of a great pie connoisseur as yourself.” Lex cut into the pie and slid a hearty piece over to Clark. He took a rather healthy slice for himself. They fell into an easy silence.  
  
When finished, they settled on the large couch in the living room. Behind them, the city sat quietly as if in wait for the conversation to come.  
  
Lex just watched Clark. Found himself sticking to old comfortable habits and knowing that Clark wouldn’t be the first to open up. “I went to the farm to find you.”  
  
Clark looked up at that. “When?”  
  
“Does it matter? Imagine my shock to learn that the person I had been hanging on for was dead. When I saw your headstone--”  
  
“I’m sorry.” Clark blurted. Guilt was written all over his face. “ After I got your letter, I was just so happy. It seemed like you hadn’t forgotten me after all.”  
  
Lex’s eyes flashed like silver bolts of lightning. “I could never forget you.”  
  
“Then, they said you were dead. The radio. The papers. I tried to listen for you.” Clark admitted. “My hearing has gotten even better. I tried listening for your heartbeat and I couldn’t hear it anymore.”  
  
Lex held his hand out for Clark to take. “I was too far, Clark. You know I’m stubborn. I can’t be killed that easily. ”  
  
Clark laughed as he linked his fingers with Lex’s. “I should have known then. There were a bunch of other things happening and I guess I lost my head.”  
  
“You can tell me anything. What happened at the farm?”  
  
“I was thinking about you…You know thinking about you. ” Cheeks bright pink. Lex answered with a knowing smile. “Afterwards, I lost control. After all the work you did, I couldn’t control it.” Clark’s green eyes flashed red then back to green.  
  
Those had been a scary couple of weeks when it seemed like he couldn’t touch Clark without causing the boy to spark up like Fourth of July fireworks. They’d worked on it, gradually building Clark’s tolerance for touch and delaying how hot under the collar he was.  
  
“I knew the tractor’s gas tank had a leak and I was trying to patch when you popped up in my mind. Then, I could hear your voice and see you just standing there in the loft saying you’d be back. You were drowned out by my father’s voice and he kept talking about destiny and destiny and how we were letting it slide….” Clark’s words jumbled together into one long string of near incoherency.  
  
Reaching for his face, Lex forced Clark to focus on him. “Tell me about the explosion.”  
  
“I was so afraid I’d hurt someone. My parents. Pete. Chloe. I couldn’t take the risk so I grabbed a few things and left.” Clark rose from the couch. Hesitating only to break contact with Lex. He crossed the room and dug through his simple canvas bag. After finding what he was looking for, Clark turned to face Lex, his hands full with the St. George’s box.  
  
“I couldn’t find it when I went to the farm.” Lex stared at the box. That day in all of his confusion, Clark had taken the box and not much else. Just gone out in the world without knowing where to go. What astonished Lex more was that Clark had been able to keep the box, and as he looked inside, he saw his mother’s watch in perfect condition.  
  
“It looks just the same.”  
  
“No matter what I kept it safe.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“It was the only part of you I still had.”  
  
“How did you survive?” Lex conjectured that when Clark left it was at the beginning of the economic upturn. Things were getting better, but not by much. Clark’s food intake alone would consume the majority of his wages.  
  
“I worked for the Public Works for a while. Then, I did a few odds and ends jobs.”  
  
“My real question should be: how did you get to the Garden?”  
  
Clark bowed his head. It was a classic show of guilt. “I met a man in the park one day. He sat down beside me and started talking. Mostly about nothing in particular. He just wanted someone to listen and I did. Soon, he came every evening looking for Kal, a gone lover, I assumed. Later, we touched. Most, him touching me. After Morgan, it seemed like I could just find these people who were in need and hurting. I could hear them. Eventually Ms. Carver found me. Things had gone sour with one of…”  
  
“Your clients.” Lex supplied. He had to think of it as business and nothing more. There were no emotional attachments. None of Clark’s clients could come close to achieving a fraction of what they had.  
  
“A client became too attached. He made things difficult. Apparently, Ms. Carver had been watching me for a while. She didn’t know I could handle him myself, but she stepped in right on time with Titan at hand.” Clark half grinned. “She gave me a place to stay, food, and money. She made me feel like I belonged, even if every touch felt like a betrayal.”  
  
“How many were there? How many did you sleep with?”  
  
“You’re the only one I’ve ever slept with.”  
  
The mounting jealousy died at this. Squelched by having laid claim to what was his.  
  
“No one will ever touch you again. It’s just you and me. ”

* * *

  
  
They laid in bed, wasting hours just clutching each other. Having Clark in his arms was an addiction Lex would never hope to overcome. “Why didn’t you come to me?”  
  
“I figured you didn’t remember. You were in a plane crash. I know you’re getting married.” Clark replied, resting against Lex’s chest  
  
“That doesn’t matter.”  
  
“It does, Lex.”  
  
“No, it doesn’t. The only person I have ever loved is you. Lana--”  
  
“Lana? As in Lana Lang?”  
  
“One in the same.”  
  
“We actually grew together. Neighbors actually.”  
  
Lex knew from the start that Lana was from Smallville. She wasn’t statuesque like the other woman who had moved through his life. She did however fit his type. Dark exotic beauty. Light eyes. A lush pink mouth. A substitute for the unattainable. “Small world.”  
  
“I had a crush on her for about a minute.”  
  
“What happened to it?”  
  
“I met you.”  
  
Clark turned over to gaze out the windows. “Will we always be here by ourselves?” Lex knew what Clark was asking. They were very isolated in the abandoned neighborhood.  
  
“Not for long. Hope and Mercy are moving in soon. And once we’ve finished remodeling the area, it will be something more.”

* * *

  
  
The receiver on his desk rang, pulling Lex away from the bids for the government’s next wave of fighter planes for the summer of ’44. He’d been perusing the stack, more so to assure Pete and catch any minor oversights, despite having an in with the DOD.

Lex pressed the return button. “Yes, Mercy.”  
  
“There’s someone here to see you.” Which was code for ‘there’s someone here to see you and I might possibly have to kill them’. Just a small handful of people were capable of making Mercy’s take on such a clipped tone.  
  
The almost imperceptible draw of air before she gave the name narrowed the list down to two potential suspects. “Mr. Nixon.”  
  
The man stepped inside Lex’s office behind Mercy and pointedly made an effort to stare at her backside. Lex’s stomach roiled at the disgusting display. If this weren’t a place of business and the stories Mercy and Hope liked to share with Lex when feeling chatty, those oogling eyes might have found themselves missing from his head. The idea did cause Lex to smile a little, which Nixon interpreted was due to his appearance.  
  
The man stopped before Lex’s desk, a little more corpulent than the last time Lex had laid eyes on him. His brown fedora sat on his head, cocked in such a way that was thought fashionable, yet on someone like Nixon really looked stupid.  
  
“Lex, I’m glad you could see me.”  
  
Lex smirked and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. Nixon waved him off and took a seat on Lex’s corner couch. “Well, anytime we see each other, generally proves beneficial. I couldn’t imagine not seeing you.” Lex flattered him. Oiled him and stroked his ego like the good little dog Nixon was.  
  
The man slipped off his hat and laid it on his knee. He reached inside his coat, removing a long envelope that Lex had learned long ago only meant incriminating pictures. How incriminating those pictures happened to be would weigh heavily on whether Nixon would be walking out of the building again. Nixon and his unseen copper buddy Phelan were two of the last remnants of Lionel’s reign in the city. Two loyal lap dogs for a price.  
  
Lex accepted the package and willed his face to stay calm. Remain a blank mask and not betray a single emotion. He refused to look up and see the sweaty excitement on Nixon’s face. So, Lex opened the package and took a deep breath as he opened the folder. The same glossy black and white prints he always remembered.  
  
This time a dark haired man had his head thrown back in ecstasy as the shutter snapped, forever rendering the moment still in time.  
  
Lex could smile.  
  
He did smile.  
  
Lex had missed the opportunities to bond with his erstwhile sibling during his years of folly, exploration, general pain in the ass behavior to his father, and his sober years in Smallville. Debauchery which united them despite their Luthor blood. Lucas, who felt like the entire world owed him for Lionel’s abandonment and Lex’s estrangement, loved to seek comfort in the euphoric and numbing effect of opiates and loose women of any kind. He also had a penchant for gambling, drinking too much, and wrecking cars  
worse than Lex ever could.  
  
This newest little exploit was enough to get him into series hot water. Metropolis Confidential or the Inquisitor would love to see photos of the illegitimate Luthor shooting up opium and lazing about with what appeared to be a harem of USO girls, when he was in fact avoiding the draft himself.  
  
Lex decided to keep that one for leverage. Lucas had a few more in the series. The next one featured Lex’s fiancé. “I want to apologize for that one, sir.”  
  
“Why?” Lex asked, a little perplexed by the sound of sympathy in Nixon’s tone.  
  
The man put his hat back on. “Dames, you know. You can’t live with ‘em or without ‘em. You’d think after all that you could give a chickadee like her, she’d at least wait until you were married. Then again--” He shook his head. “At least, you know now and don’t have to worry about paying for a fancy-smancy wedding.”  
  
Lex flipped through the pictures without saying a word. In each one, Lana looked lovely—perfectly happy and serene as she talked to the blond man sitting beside her. He knew her companion quite well. They’d almost been step-siblings.  
  
Jason Teague.  
  
How Lana and Jason knew each other was a bit of a mystery to Lex, because Jason had spent the majority of his life across the Atlantic in France. France. Paris. It all made sense. Lana had done a visit to learn about art and sought to enter the circle of the great so-call expatriates.  
  
Each picture revealed something more. A simple touch of his hand over hers. Lana looking away. Lana looking at him, her face too open for someone not to guess that something more were happening between them. A kiss on the check. A kiss on the lips in Metropolis park. A parting on her doorstep, then a mind changed. The lighter shades of grey as Jason left her apartment the next morning.  
  
If Lex had really cared, if he didn’t have Clark back then he might have been angry about this and possibly sought to ruin Lana for her betrayal. Having already knowingly broken her trust, Lex wouldn’t dare be a hypocrite and feel upset about the pictures. The simple joy of not finding one of him and Clark couldn’t be contained.  
  
He stacked the pictures up and placed them inside his desk. Nixon looked expectant and eager for the next part, though his little mask of sympathy was cracking and falling all about him in anticipation for his fee.  
  
Lex cut the check with a few extra dollars in the total sum. Nixon didn’t quite snatch it out of Lex’s hand, but grabbed it quickly and devoured the figures with his beady little eyes. Satisfied, he pocketed the check and struggled to get up from the couch. “I’m sorry about the contents of the photos. Things like that shouldn’t happen to a nice fellow such as yourself.”  
  
Lex shrugged slightly. “A lot of things shouldn’t happen.” Including having to pander to leeches like Nixon and Phelan.  
  
“I’ll keep an eye out.” Nixon called behind him as he exited Lex’s office.  
  
Lex pushed back from his desk and went to the window that faced the harbor. “I’m sure you will.” He retorted to no one in particular.  
  
Jonathan Kent’s voice played over and over in his head like the tiny scratching on an old phonograph and said ominously, “You lay with dogs; you’ll be full of fleas.” They needed to be careful. Hope and Mercy could take care of the matters of Phelan and Nixon, dirty copper and two-bit reporter would be out of his hair. What worried him was the possibility of seeing he and Clark in those photos or simply Clark in a random moment with his specialness exposed.

* * *

  
  
He’d carefully waited for the other shoe to drop. Every day when Lex returned, part of him was privy to believing that the apartment would be empty. And Clark would be off to parts unknown—away from him and possibly exposed to the scrutiny and greed of people like Nixon and Phelan.  
  
And every day he was surprised to walk through the door and see Clark sitting by the windowsill reading a book or in the kitchen cooking. It was truly like a vision of heaven. A mirage if he hadn’t been able to slide his fingers into Clark’s hair and kiss the breath from his body. Lex had never known expectation in the happy sense until his years in Smallville. Nightly, when they settled into their bed, Clark was right beside him. Lex always insinuated an arm between them, hooking it across Clark’s stomach or back and keeping them close for the remainder of the night, except when they were.  
  
It had been a soft breeze that whispered across Lex’s skin to giving him a chill that caused him to awaken. Clark’s side was still warm, but the apartment was completely vacant save for Lex. He remained awake for another hour or so until Clark returned. Whether Clark knew he was awake or asleep, it didn’t matter, he simply buried his head into the side of Clark’s neck and inhaled the refreshing scent of air.  
  
No cologne. Just air.  
  
A worry that Clark couldn’t be solely his passed away and removed itself from Lex’s mind. They didn’t speak of Clark’s trips. Lex’s hand was forced after the Daily Planet started reporting about different citizen’s accounts of an angel dressed in black saving them from the worst of the cities dredges.  
  
Thus, the day’s edition of the Daily Planet had led to Lex leaving work early after promising Hope and Mercy that nothing was amiss. One of them would be along shortly to make sure. He’d simply showed Clark the newspaper and let the stoicism of his face speak for him.  
  
Clark stood away from him. Standing at the window, the amber light from the lamp posts outside covered him in shadows and patches of color. Like an urban chameleon, he was beautiful. Hard edges and softness all wrapped up in one package, complexly deceiving to any admirer or watcher, the inside of a diamond could only match in complexity, so many faces, so many angles. Lex didn’t believe he’d ever know all of them. He snatched up everyone that he could, clutching them—keeping them for himself.  
There was no massive shrine or a room dedicated to all things Clark.  
  
Just a place inside.  
  
Many places inside that belonged to Clark.  
  
And no one would pry Clark away from him. Not again. Clark’s deeds, stopping a few rapes, robberies and break-ins, were good and definitely appreciated by the people he’d helped. But every deed came with the possibility of having someone see his face or take his picture. What could be said to the family and friends of a young man thought dead years ago?  
  
Watching Clark, stand peacefully at the window, anger evident in the line of his shoulders and the clench of his jaw. Any side of anger didn’t suit Clark. Lex would rather see him wearing shades of petulant. The pursing of the bow of his mouth. Strawberry pout. Eyes hooded, but focused. Still angelic, there was proof in his wings being on the inside as a few nights of light slumber had revealed.  
  
It was an old habit to think in terms of philosophy and metaphysics. He knew Clark’s divine nature so well, because he was the other. He was that which defined what the opposite was and would be. The dark to Clark’s light. He was grounded to land while Clark took to the sky. Fluent in sin, he was an avid scholar of wickedness. Living in damnation, he had coveted, felt envy, wrath, pride. His lust for Clark had trumped them all. The Empire State Building to their small town collection of sins. Then, it too was dwarfed by his love, his devotion.  
  
Nothing could supersede those.  
  
“I know you’re not ashamed of me. There’s so much at stake for someone like you to be caught with me.” Clark finally said, back still facing Lex. “But, you can’t keep me prisoner here.”  
  
“That’s not it at all.” Lex stood five feet, give or take, behind Clark. Eyes trained on the triangle points of Clark’s back that eluded the confines of his white undershirt. “I refuse to allow someone--” Nixon and Phelan came to mind. Loyal dogs for a price. Always a price. “Anyone to cut their teeth by exploiting our relationship.”  
  
“Then--”  
  
“Don’t even ask it. What’s done is done and I don’t regret any of it. In fact, I’m glad I became so driven. Now, we can have more than ever. We can do anything. Go anywhere if we wanted.”  
  
Clark turned his head slightly, the lines of his jaw and shoulders were parallel and strong. “I wouldn’t want to take you away from your life.”  
  
Lex was smirking as he continued.“ I wouldn’t allow you to leave it. This life in Metropolis was all based on the next thing that would keep my mind busy. Divert my thoughts from you and what I lost.” Lex gripped Clark’s jaw and forced their eyes to meet. “None of it matters, because you’re everything.”  
  
Clark moved away from the window with Lex still in his sight, eyes wide as though he were staring at a wild animal. “You can’t mean that.”  
  
“When have I ever said things I don’t mean? I do. I have and I always will. What is mine is yours. Even if you won’t take it, it’s yours. Anything you could ever want or desire, I’ll get it for you. And right now, as much as I love you and care about how you feel, I won’t yield on this. There’s no martyrdom in sacrificing your happiness for the possibility of what if.” Business was entirely based on what if, even if it was backed up by evidence it was still based on the what if.  
  
Lex was the only person in Clark’s life to ever call him out on his addiction to being self-sacrificing. In the converse, Clark was the only one to make Lex discard the idea of eventually succumbing to an internal darkness.  
  
Clark’s face softened. He let his gaze drop to the floor. His puffed up chest deflated and his hard shoulders fell into a natural shrug. “You’re so stubborn. You probably would have made a heck of a G-Man. You could have given James Cagney a run for his money in Public Enemy.”  
  
Lex stepped into Clark’s space, placing his hands on Clark’s with a sense of upmost proprietorship. “I’m not a man for pictures. Maybe Al Capon or Bugsy Segal. You might be right, I could have been like Elliot Ness.”  
  
Clark wrinkled his nose at the mention of the gangsters, causing Lex to smirk. “Why them?”  
  
“Because I’d always get my man one way or another.”  
  
Lex claimed Clark’s lips ending the argument for the time being. Clark tasted like apples and sunshine and Lex was becoming rapidly addicted. He had to admit his favorite part of the day was any time he could kiss Clark. Feeling the soft give of those lush lips beneath his was worth everything.  
  
“I can’t pretend that I don’t hear what’s happening out there.”  
  
Lex caressed his face. “I don’t want you to ignore the world, just let me help you.”

* * *

  
  
 _“Angel of Metropolis Strikes Again! Mother and Child Saved From Tenement Fire!”  
  
“Young Couple Saved From Hands of Savage Band of Thieves—Angel of Metropolis Credited With Rescue!”  
  
“Angel of Metropolis—Real or Hoax?”  
  
“Angel of Metropolis Shows Extraordinary Strength—Saves School Bus!”_  
  
George Smith was on his way home after putting in his final day in the Metropolis Paper Factory. In his pocket, he had his final pay check and his registration to start the President’s new program, Social Security. After over fifty years of working, his life was finally going to start getting better. So swept up in his small bit of happiness, he missed the sounds of feet approaching at his back and suddenly found himself in the hands of a group of soup line scabs.  
  
They made quick work of stealing all the money he had in the world and leaving him unconscious, bleeding, and broken. As he stared up at the sky believing that death was surely coming for him, he’ll never forget the feeling of air under him or the blurring of the world as it all zipped by him.  
  
The stay in Metropolis General was as pleasant as a hospital stay could be. He couldn’t fight the feeling that he was being watched nightly. When he returned a few days later, he expected nothing more than to be greeted by bills that he couldn’t possibly pay. Instead, he found a box with his wallet, his paycheck, his registration , and the assurance of the Angel of Metropolis that his attackers had been caught. There was also an invitation to visit Lillian Heights.  
  
Apparently, his luck had turned around.  
**  
  
Maxwell and Wilhelmina Smith were returning from the theater when a truck ran straight into them and knocked them off the road. Their car hung precariously on the edge of the broken railing. Metropolis Harbor sat beneath them; its black waters lay in wait. As the car lurched a final sickening time and they began their terrifying descent downward, the car stopped in mid-air. Just stopped and began to move upward. Just as quickly, they were on solid ground.  
  
A man dressed in black waved to them and smiled. He gestured for them to roll down the window. Wilhelmina did so at a snail’s pace, because her heart was beating so rapidly. He slipped a card inside and vanished before their eyes.  
  
The Angel of Metropolis made a suggestion that night. They’d go see Lillian Heights upon his recommendation. That was the least they could do after the Angel of Metropolis saved their lives and the life of their unborn child.

* * *

  
  
They returned from overseeing the final arrangements for the grand opening of Lillian Heights. Lex’s new fangled ‘suburb’ had all the press talking and even some of the boys in the DOD interested in military-civilian contracts. Lillian Heights was going to show how to maximize urban space without completely abandoning wide open spaces, the fresh air, and sunshine.  
  
It was as though Lex had brought a small piece of Smallville to the city. The apple and peach trees made Clark happy. There was a place for Clark here. Not just with Lex, but amongst the little society taking shape in Lillian Heights. He had his patch of earth that was sprouting life at every turn. New saplings that would soon bear fruit and vegetables crawling up through the ground. Clark was happy in the open embrace of nature. Lex was just happy to see the natural brightness of Clark’s smile competing with the sun.  
  
They returned to their apartment after the day’s last meeting with Hope and Mercy. Just as Lex had converted the old tenement their home had emerged from, Hope and Mercy’s place was like theirs—a marriage of a house and apartment and whatever other rooms one could possibly need. Apparently, they needed a lot of space to train.  
  
In their row house, Lex had an office and pool room on the first floor, just like in the Castle in Smallville. The floor had the living room and kitchen. The third floor had Clark’s solarium. There were more plants and flowers here, but the main focus were the floor to ceiling windows that covered nearly two-thirds of the room. The fourth floor was full of decadence that Clark would normally shy away from. The room was a culmination of every desire Lex had. Despite the Depression, the bed was massive and the mattress was firm and soft in all the right places. The bed was covered with the highest quality sheets and carpet covered the floors. There was a fireplace for the cold nights and a cooling system that Lex had modified from an old refrigerator that kept the room cool during the hottest of days. The largest record player console sat in the corner. Playing the big bands of the times or simply playing the President’s fireside chats.  
  
There were many nights when they just curled up in bed and listened. Tonight was one of those times and not even the newest addition to their home could distract Lex’s thoughts from their recent path. Clark played with the small white kitten he’d rescued from one of the orchards trees. The kitten adored its savior and openly looked at Lex with what amounted as the feline version of contempt.  
  
Clark found the hostility between the kitten and Lex quite amusing. Then again, Clark was also immune to the pain of irritable kitten scratches on the hands and feet.  
  
Lex watched the as of yet unnamed kitten crawl up Clark’s belly and its utter amazement at having its claws catch in the soft cotton weaving of Clark’s open collared shirt.  
  
“Your parents miss you.” He said as he curled his fingers through Clark’s hair.  
  
Clark’s eyes remained steadfast on the kitten. “I don’t think I could ever go back.”The kitten got up close and personal with Clark’s nose. Cold tip to warm tip.  
  
“Trust me, you can.”  
  
“I sent them money every month.” It made sense, because the farm looked to be in good shape despite having lost Clark’s one man army of farm hands. “They were doing a lot better than most of our neighbors.”  
  
Lex dared the wrath of the ferocious ball of fluff, and scooped it up and lay on the floor. Its petulant meows were turned on Lex’s ecstatically deaf ears. “That still doesn’t make up for not having you. Nothing could make up for that.”  
  
“It’s just that--” Clark sighed, shifting to look at Lex better. His green eyes were lit in the color of shame. “You can’t ever go home, right?”  
  
Lex shook his head. The memory of the stark sadness in the Kent farm house washed over him. Any amount of Clark would obliterate that sadness that clung to the air in the once warm home like hot taffy. “Your parents love you and they’ll never stop.”  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Kent weren’t like Lionel. There was no price or conditions that came as pre-sets to their love. It was unconditional. It was a thing that caused Lex to be just a little jealous of Clark in that respect. “After everything that’s happened…Do you think they’d still love me if they knew I was the Jewel? Or that I was here with you again?”  
  
Lex sat up and gazed at Clark. If he were a painter, he would be able to capture Clark’s beauty in all its many colors, and not simply the parts that came in black and white. In their decadent bed, on top of a mass of pillows, he could see Clark, as thoughtful as ever with penance written all across his face, while his body and lips beckoned for sin. The picture would be an odalisque. Clark was his odalisque. His muse. His angel that was so human.  
  
“You’re also the Angel of Metropolis. They’d love you no matter what.” Love like theirs couldn’t be broken by any means. “I would never have believed Jonathan Kent would have shook my hand or hugged me until I went looking for you. If your father could come to treat me decently, there’s no way he would ever stop loving you.”  
  
Clark shifted forward. His shirt fell open, exposing his natural golden complexion, and he rested his head against Lex’s chest. Right over his heart. For a moment, not a word was said. “One day.” Clark whispered.  
  
Lex resumed his stroking of Clark’s curls. “Whenever you’re ready.” He’d be there for that moment too.  
  
It was a perfect moment. Even if the kitten decided to nip at Lex’s dangling hand. He simply grinned and bore it.

* * *

  
  
The first residential section of Lillian Heights had been settled. LexCorp employees, a few of Lex’s friends from the service, and others who had received special invitations from Metropolis’ protector. It was all running smoothly, right down to the budding of the flowers and the opening of the school for the children in the burgeoning neighborhood.  
  
This was only supposed to be a quick run to the penthouse for his favorite suit and few other effects.  
  
Soft stirrings of piano music infiltrated his brain. The melodic sounds of Gershwin came from the living room. He rounded the corner and found Lana sitting on the couch, fireplace going in front of her, and looking for all the world like a well place doll. The reflection of the flames danced off the ivory sheen of her dress. Her dark hair fell like a long ebony curtain across her evening pale face.  
  
The glass on the table was near empty. The amber hue revealed it was one of his more expensive and harder to come by spirits.  
  
“Lex.” She greeted.  
  
“Lana.” He dropped his coat over the couch in front of him. “I hadn’t expected you back for a few more days.” Lex didn’t quite move to intercept her the way he normally would have. A gulf of space remained separating them as he darted in, placing a light kiss upon her sweet smelling cheek. He didn’t miss the furrow of her brow.  
  
She remained seated as Lex moved back over to the other couch, and most importantly, away from her. Lana began to rise, so that she could take his coat; Lex waved her off.  
  
Once she was recomposed, her hands dropped to her lap, and her eyes went straight to Lex’s. “I heard about the opening of Lillian Heights and I wanted to be here to support you.”  
  
“You didn’t need to cut your trip short.” The trip, this time, was to Gotham. It was hard work trying to find the right dress or so it seemed.  
  
“Yes, I did. This would be my job as Mrs. Luthor. I don’t think supporting you is all that hard…or maybe, I need more practice.” She smiled modestly.  
  
It was that sweetness that made her remind him of Clark in those early days after meeting. “I appreciate the gesture.”  
  
“ I waited for you. I’ve been back for a couple of days. You usually have a sense about these things and always manage to give me a call. You didn’t call, so I became a little worried. Every time I called you weren’t in, so I came to the penthouse. I’ve been here two days waiting.” The accusation was clear in her voice. It wasn’t pointed like something Victoria or Helen would have issued, but it was there.  
  
Lex smiled. It was the best he could do other than laugh as a headache began to work itself between his temples. So much for things running smoothly. “What I always liked about you was that you never tried to manipulate me.”  
  
Lana looked taken aback. Her mouth partially open and eyes tightened in the corner, as if gearing up to refute Lex’s words. He had every right to be affronted, not her.  
  
“We’ve been doing so well.” He added.  
  
Eyes like shucked abalone shells plucked from the heart of Caribbean seas stared back at him. Trying to open him up to the suggestion of sympathy and potentially the errant nature of his comments. “I’m simply concerned. We haven’t seen much of each other and any time I find myself needing your input about the wedding, you seem very content to push it back. If it were work, I could understand.”  
  
He regarded her with an inquisitive gaze. Was this her bluff? What did she know, if anything? Those in glass houses shouldn’t cast stones. Lionel taught him that very well. “Really?  
  
She nodded and Lex saw another one of those things that had made him attracted to her. Lana wasn’t a good liar. Definitely better than Clark used to be, but not an expert. Her usual tells didn’t show. “That seems odd considering many women of equal position would lament the fact that their boyfriends and husbands work constantly.”  
  
Trying to look impassive, she shrugged. “It’s something I prepared myself for. It’s inevitable.”  
  
“Prepared? Not simple resignation?” Lex grinned at her openly. “Tell me, Lana. Let us have our moment of truth. How deep are your feelings for me?”  
  
Lex hadn’t dared allow ‘I love you’ to pass between them, because his feelings had only remained topical at best. They had never pierced his soul. His mouth couldn’t emit those three words for anyone but a select few. Two of the three were dead. Even now, he said it more frequently, but not enough to make up for their time lost.  
  
Her lips parted. For a breathless second, nothing came out. Caught by her own sense of romance. “I care deeply for you.”  
  
“But you don’t love me.” Lex finished for her.  
  
It was terrible to watch her face crumble and the abject terror of her fraud become apparent. His feelings were the same. There was no reason to torment her. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”  
  
Lana’s eyes were steadily leaking water that she couldn’t wipe away fast enough, leaving inky trails from the corner of her eyes. “Truth be told, I feel deeply for you, but I don’t love you either.” He said those words so calmly. They acted almost as a balm, and she seemed to lose some of her stiffness.  
  
“They why ask me to marry you?”  
  
“Why did you accept?” He placed his hat on the seat beside him and set about to finish this matter of business. “We each have something the other needs. What do you want?”  
  
“I want to be out from under my aunt.” Lana replied.  
  
Lex nodded. That was obvious. Nell was quite a character. She and Lionel might have had more in common than some talk would allude. “I need to present to the world that I have a life as stable as my business when I return home.”  
  
She simply stood and went to the bar to pour herself a drink. Lana went for the strong stuff again. Now, he could clearly see it was whiskey. “I knew you didn’t love me, Lex. It was as plain as day. Even I could see it. So, we come to terms now?”  
Lex joined her at the bar, pouring a drink for himself as well. “You see to your affairs and I’ll see to mine. Your relationships are none of my concern as are mine none of yours.”  
  
Half the glass was gone in one fast swallow. “Children?”  
  
“Nothing is ever one hundred percent. If things with Teague--” He didn’t stop at the sight of her returned shock. “—Are productive. I’ll gladly claim the child. Otherwise, we’ll rely on Mother Nature. Unlike my father, I would like my child to know he or she is more than an heir, despite the situation between us.”  
  
“It sounds good to me.”  
  
“I never meant to hurt you.” Lex offered.  
  
“You just planned on using me…” She crossed her hands over her chest. “I must admit then that I planned on using you too. I guess we deserve each other in that respect.”  
  
Lex was mildly impressed with Lana’s honesty. “We are quite a pair.”  
  
Lana looked at him. Her gaze was full of speculation. “Is she Negro? Is that why you’re sneaking in here?”  
  
Lex shook his head. Things would be easier, much easier if Clark were a woman of any kind. “No, I just want privacy.”  
  
She nodded in understanding. The deal was already in effect, so she had no reason to ask. “I’ll do all the public wife events with you as long as you keep me in a lifestyle that I have become accustomed to.” She’d done her homework and had business acumen in her own right.  
  
“I wouldn’t do anything less.” Lex kissed her lips gently. A parting kiss of sorts rather than the passionate type that was used to seal deals.  
  
Lex gazed at Lana, mostly in amazement wondering where this woman whose gaze was now sharpened and bright had come from. Having under estimated her left Lex feeling a bit bitter. She was supposed to be exactly as she seemed: sweet, pure, innocent.

* * *

  
  
As he opened the door to their apartment and heard the soft tones of the Dizzy Gilespie flowing in the air, Lex felt a shade of relief. There was always a worry, however small, but boisterous, that he would return one of these evenings and find Clark gone. Vanished beyond his reach. And then, he would have to return to living his old life. That sterile void that he’d just detached himself from even further.  
  
He stepped deeper into their home and found himself resuming his second favorite activity. Clark sat in the window sill. The white puppy laid across his lap, while the cat draped itself in a dominant sprawl over his feet.  
  
Still here.  
  
“You saw Lana.” Clark said before turning to look at him. It must have been the perfume that tipped him off. The smell was quite unique. Mandatorily so at twenty five dollars a bottle.  
  
Lex shrugged out of his coat and jacket and lastly removed his hat. Down to his bare shirt, he moved over to the window sill and looked down at the smug occupant of his seat. The little fluffy ball of white fur issued him a look that Clark swore the kitten had learned from Lex exclusively.  
  
“The meeting occurred sooner than I would have liked, but it was nonetheless productive.”  
  
Clark shook his head as he stroked the puppy.“You make it sound like a business deal. This is your marriage we’re talking about.”  
  
“No, you’re talking about it as though it would be a marriage. Anything I have with Lana is a farce, just a cover for us both. She gets what she needs and so do I.”  
  
“Marriage in any form is precious and sacred.”  
  
Lex stopped his caressing of Clark’s feet .His stilled hands reached for Clark’s hands instead. “We may not have a piece of paper or rings, but I consider this to be as real as any other marriage.”  
  
“Lex--”  
  
He couldn’t hear trying to erode the meaning of his words. He allowed the trumpet’s dulcet tunes to wash over him. “Why are you always listening to music?”  
  
“It makes things easier.”  
  
“What things?”  
  
“I can hear so much . Smell so much. The music helps to drown out the noise of the city and other things.”  
  
“Like?”  
  
“The sounds of explosions and gun fire.”  
  
Lex made plans then and there to bring a new record home every day. After he’d returned to the States, there were many nights when he woke up, swearing the sounds of exploding bombs and buildings collapsing were just outside his window. Tiresome nights full of cold sweats and attacks that left him feeling panicked made Lex empathetic with Clark’s suffering.  
  
“Sorry.” Lex apologized. Clark’s abilities seemed even too big for him at times. They’d controlled his desire to help. Made it so that when Clark helped, his identity was protected and some of the people he saved could have protection from now on.  
  
Krypto crawled out of Clark’s lap and down his legs to rest in Lex’s. “Don’t be. It’s not something you can control.”  
  
Lex hated when anything made him feel powerless. He would help Clark until his dying day. “We’ll find a way.”  
  
“It used to be much worse. Between the trains crossing the back country heading to Granville and the sounds of groups making roads and dams, it’s a miracle that my head didn’t fly off.” This happened while he was gone. Just another thing Lex faulted himself for during his absence from Clark’s life.  
  
Clark watched Lex coddle the puppy. The newest stray that had followed Lex home this time. His expression was soft, but telling of something.  
  
“What?” Lex asked after looking up from Krypto’s rolling yawns.  
  
“Come with me.”  
  
He didn’t ask where they were going; Lex simply followed Clark up to the roof. It was one of the entrances Clark could use when going or returning to one of his missions. The rooftop was layered with lush green grass that felt even better beneath bare feet.  
Clark disappeared in a flash and returned just as quickly. In his wake, music reached them from below. “Just hold on.” Clark’s shirt was now buttoned and his hair was slicked back, even in the moonlight, it shone with a brilliant gleam. They moved gently to the music, a soft sway in the night air. Lex concentrated on the heat of Clark’s body pouring through the layers of clothing and the sound of soft music.  
  
Gradually, the world beneath their feet fell away, and it was just the two of them rising above it, faster and faster with each second. Too high for anyone to see them, they were just specks in the velvety quilt of the sky.  
  
Clark was flying. They were flying. The fear of heights had united them. Now, it had slipped away in favor of thrills far greater. The city flickered and glowed below them like the inverse of the sky. It was so beautiful and peaceful. Clark’s eyes were open and trained completely on Lex. He hummed the tune and kept them moving steadily on the wind. Eventually, Lex’s grip on Clark lessened to just their hands being connected. They flew together like birds of the heavens.  
  
They flew so far that the lights of the city became nothing but a faint yellow glow pointed up to the heavens. Clark returned them to the roof just as easily. Their feet crushing the soft blades of verdant grass.  
  
Lex’s heart was pounding from sheer exhilaration. Truly flying felt incredible. He reached up and twined Clark’s hair between his fingers and brought their mouths together. It was a kiss of burning passion. Lex had never known anyone so fully, so completely as he did with Clark. It was that trust that fueled his desire.  
  
They descended from the roof and returned to their bedroom. There was a flurry of activity, all under Lex’s direction to get them undressed. A sense of urgency had buried itself within Lex and as he took in the sight of Clark bare-chested and alive, he knew what fire in his veins felt like.  
  
Clark was always so careful, because it was easy for his hands to rend and shred. Lex made him, toyed with, forced him to rip Lex’s shirts and pants, reducing the fine linens to rags. Spread over the realized goal of their years of separation, Lex lay across Clark’s body. Every part of them connected.  
  
There was no romance in the affair of this night. Mouth to mouth. Chest to chest. Legs entwined. Hands grappling for a hold. He broke away long enough to reach for the can of slick that sat on the night stand. Lex coated himself before diving back in to suckle and worry at Clark’s neck. The noises that poured from those beestung lips were unlike anything Lex had ever heard. Sounds that must have been the language of the angels, because they seemed so right to be coming out of Clark’s mouth.  
  
Clark was open to him, ready and waiting for Lex to enter. The sense of urgency hadn’t dampened in the least. As he thrust, he clutched hard. As if he were afraid of losing the warmth he’d regained. There was a feeling that something was coming.  
He was so hot. Like a pool of lava in his belly, he was ready to explode.  
  
Never had he felt like this.  
  
Clark had never looked like this either, eyes wide, mouth open in silent screams. There was nothing beyond them except the two of them and the flames beings stoked between them. Lex came with a roaring shudder after Clark’s release splashed on his belly. It was like a trigger that urged him forth and his seed just kept coming, pouring forth, and filling Clark until Lex felt hollow inside.  
  
They collapsed into each other as the music finally petered out.

* * *

  
  
The world seemed like it was falling apart. The president was dead and Clark was sick. Clark hadn’t been out of bed for days. There was talk of the war ending soon. LexCorp was in a strong position to take many of the returning soldiers and Lillian Heights had plenty of vacancies.  
  
But the fact remained, Clark was ill. Shortly before the start of November, he’d been struck by a bout of vertigo and nausea. It had passed, just as quickly as it came. Clark assured him it was nothing. He’d given Lex some half cocked answer about the sun and his abilities. Lex would have believed it if Clark hadn’t sounded so unsure.  
  
Lex began to leave the company in Hope, Mercy, and Pete’s hands more in the last weeks. He found it easiest for him to function and think clearly if he was working from home or sitting at Clark’s side.  
  
There was no way for him to find out what kind of sickness it was that was leaving Clark breathless, nauseated, and weak. There wasn’t anything Lex could do.  
  
The sickness was peculiar. Unlike anything with the meteor rocks, it came and went with its choosing. The great swelling around Clark’s middle remained a mystery to them both. It had naturally progressed to being large enough that Clark couldn’t hide it anymore. Now, even long stays in the sunlight offered no reprieve.  
  
So, he lay in their bed; music consistently played and Lex either worked or simply sat watching. Even Joan Crawford, the temperamental white cat, obeyed and laid in Lex’s lap, watching Clark’s decline. So many things swirled around in Lex’s mind. None of them were contingencies in the event he lost Clark to illness.  
  
His Angel.  
  
There were times when he raged; angry that forces in the world always conspired to steal their love. He watched Clark slumber peacefully finally and considered the value of the world without Clark in it. The darkness that Clark had kept a firm hand on was bursting through and consuming Lex with rage and gearing him up to lash out. Strike out at the whole world. Show the whole rotten mess how petty and evil it could be for no good reason. Show that losing love was the worst pain imaginable.  
  
Lex wasn’t sure what day it was. Just knew that April was almost over. He’d had another sleepless night and found sitting in Clark’s window to be the most comfortable spot. He was two floors down, but could hear Clark just fine. In the east, fingers of gold crawled up from the edge of the world and scooped up the darkness. The beauty of it was lost on him. Clark—his eternal beauty, was stark and pale while sickness ate him from within. A tumor was stealing his life.  
  
The sun finally sat above the world. The world was awaking to another day of chaotic life. Lex took a sighing breath. Krypto stirred at his feet and Joan stretched in his lap. Life beyond the windows was so miniscule. Clark’s scream pierced the air and caused Lex to fly like a madman up the stairs.  
  
He entered the bedroom and stopped cold at the sight of Clark writhing and moaning in agony. This was death’s doing. Lex flung himself into action and grabbed Clark’s wrists despite knowing what little effect his strength would have on Clark’s. They grappled until Lex had Clark’s arms pinned. Beneath his gaze, he marveled at the deep reddening of Clark’s skin in the form of a circlet from where Lex had held him down.  
  
To this day, Lex would never be able to full recall the steps that led to his next decision. He wiped the sweat that poured from Clark’s brow and kissed Clark’s damp temple before leaving the room. Lex retrieved a knife from the kitchen. At this point, there were two outcomes: either his mind was finally crumbling into the welcomed oblivion of delusion or he would succeed in destroying the one person he’d ever loved.  
  
There was a lapse of time in his memory. Lex simply remembered crossing the threshold as the dawn’s early light began to fill the room and later, the shrieking cry of the squirming beings in his arms. There was so much blood. But Clark was breathing.  
He’d been through this before. The medics called it ‘Shell Shock’. His body acted mechanically cleaning and covering the boy and the girl. It was when Clark finally said his name that the spell was broken.  
  
Lex crossed the room to reach the bed. The bundles stirred from his frantic motion. Lex immediately passed them off to Clark, in favor of touching the former and ensuring that his lover was well.  
  
“Angel.” Lex kissed his forehead and lips. Each kiss spoke of the exponential relief Lex felt at having Clark again.  
  
Clark was in shock looking at the infants lying in his lap. “I guess this is destiny.” Clark’s big fingers stroked their tiny features for the first time.  
  
Many other men would have been overjoyed with the sight of their first born children. Lex was still reeling. The rage inside was quelled and leashed again. The void of it and the sudden return of security were leaving him off kilter. There was another space inside that was elated and thankful beyond measure for the incredible gifts of a son and daughter born by the holder of his heart and soul.  
  
The ‘what ifs’ could drive a man mad. He leaned into Clark, capturing Clark’s natural scent of sunshine and apples, now mixed with sweat, and simply breathed.  
  
Clark turned to him, fully gazing at him for the first time. “The world’s changing.”  
  
“It always is.” As evidenced by the fact that he had a son and a daughter and not by conventional means.  
  
It was April twenty-ninth.

* * *

  
  
Epilogue  
  
Conner and Lillian were barely a month old when Clark announced that he had to go. The location of where included a bit of everywhere. During his entire convalesce, Clark could hear the world.  
  
The turmoil.  
  
The strife.  
  
The joy.  
  
The war in Europe was over, but it still raged on in the Pacific. The world needed help and Clark couldn’t simply ignore it anymore. It was time for the Angel of Metropolis to save more that needed saving.  
  
Those terrifying months before the twins entered the world and Lex had feared he was going to lose Clark to a real death still haunted him. The idea of Clark going beyond his reach was frightening.  
  
The day Clark was to begin his mission, he told Lex, “You’ll never lose me.”  
  
The twins convenient crying caused him to smirk, despite the circumstances. “Better not.”  
  
Clark kissed him on the mouth and the cheek just as sweetly as the first time in Kent barn. “I’ll be home for dinner.” With his worries lessened somewhat, Lex took a step back and captured the memory that would forever be emblazoned on his memory.

Dressed in colors of red, blue, and yellow, Clark leaped towards the next phase of their destiny.  
  
Lex watched his Angel fly.


End file.
